Warty Bobbles

Flammability

A couple of nights ago, the smoke detector in our bedroom went off – for about 10 seconds.  There was no fire, no smoke -- maybe something had wafted in through the open window?  We’ll never know.   But at about 3:00 am I was torn out of a sound sleep by the most terrifying shriek (something like a nuclear-powered steam whistle) and every nerve in my body leapt to super-adrenalized-flee-for-your-life status instantly. 

 

Once we had peeled ourselves off the ceiling and sniffed the entire house for whiffs of smoldering (there were none), we decided it was just some flukey thing and that if there was any danger the other smoke detectors would go off.  And we settled back down and tried to sleep.

 

Needless to say, it takes a little time (an hour or so) to work down from super-adrenalized to nodding off.  So, I lay there thinking “what if there really had been a fire?”  And I knew that if I had woken to that blood-curdling alarm and found the room filled with smoke, I would have no thought beyond getting myself, the family, and every living creature out of the house as fast as possible: the husband, the college kids – who happened to be home (note to self: take inventory of family members before retiring for the night), the 4 cats, the fish in the 50-gallon aquarium? (someone later suggested that the punchbowl might be kept handy), the hermit crab I could carry out in a pocket (note to self: sew pocket in nightie). 

 

Me, them out of the house – that was it.  Nothing else even registered. 

 

Not my writings.  Not the photo albums.  No computer, no jewelry, no family heirlooms.  No yarn.  Not my knitted pieces – not my irreplaceable one-of-a-kind knitted pieces!  Nothing – i.e. no thing – was going to make it out of my burning house.  Just me, the family, the pets (hopefully the fish included). 

 

Kind of eye-opening – how it can all go up in smoke quite literally.  Note to self: use the good china, thumb through the photo albums, read your poems, wear the handknits.

 

A Pink Layette

Of course, when one has a brand new grand-daughter, one does not need any further excuse to knit dainty wee pink things.  It is shockingly easy to go all pink-wild in the yarn store -- and I have the receipt to back me up! 

But, as fate would have it, Sarah and I are putting together a class that will require layette patterns (A Layette in Your Knitting Bag – a 6-wk workshop class).  Sooo, I have a professional mandate to knit dainty wee (pink as an option) things.  All good!

But it also means designing all the wee dainties.  Kimono, sacque, bonnet, hat, socks, booties, pram blanket….instead of efficiently following in the footsteps (or fingersteps?) of the hundreds of competent designers who have developed cunning layette patterns over the last several centuries.

Take booties.  There are something like 57 pages of booties on Ravelry.  And I probably could put my hand on at least a dozen sensible bootie patterns in my own collection of books and leaflets.  Yet, here I am concocting a bootie pattern! 

And all the while my little grand-daughter is sleeping and eating and growing!  There are serious time constraints here.  So is it any wonder that (after my eyes are too droopy to knit) I lie in bed at night turning little heel and toe options around in my brain?

Pink-Wild Motivation + Serious Time Constraints = OBSESSION!

Pink Yarn

I went shopping for pink yarn. Kimonos, sacques, booties, hats:

Cradle blanket:

Sweet!
Need I say more?!

Another Baby In My Knitting Bag

I have a new grand-daughter! 
Gwenneth  Marie born 5:30 am Sunday May 10th (on Mother's Day!) at 9lbs 3 oz.
She is lovely -- lots of dark hair, deep blue eyes.  Very calm and robust.
Sarah (her mom) is doing well, too. 
Here she is with me (her Yzma) and big brother Max.

And one more photo with her mom:
View this photo

Matinee Jacket Update

The Matinee Jacket is nearly done and I have photographic proof:

 

 

I am dragging my feet on the finishing work, as usual.  I have told myself (quite sternly) to do one bit each day.  So, I three-needle-bound-off the shoulders one day, picked-up-and-knit the right button band the next day, etc.  I sewed up the booties, too:

 

 

 

I am still knitting the bonnet (done in the same sweet and simple eyelet flower pattern).  And the poppy-colored blanket is a long way from complete:

 

 

I am waiting until the baby is born (which could be any day now!) to buy the buttons for the jacket and the ribbon for the bonnet – I am thinking red if it is a boy, fuchsia for a girl. 

 

 

 

More Arithmetic

One of the benefits of being a designer is the regular opportunity to find one self to be wrong.  It is humbling and good for the soul. 

I was blessed with such an opportunity a couple of days ago when I swatched up the box pleat for the Joyful Ferocity and realized that I had planned only enough stitches for a single fold (like a book) and would not have enough stitches for the return fold (unless you have made box pleats, either sewing or knitting, this will probably not make much sense without diagrams– but trust me, it was wrong).

So, puzzle, puzzle, puzzle through the arithmetic.

Then, last night, I was working on the bonnet (to go with the matinee jacket) and got to the end of the first pattern row only to find that something was amiss.  Surely, the designer had not intended it to have half a scallop on the left edge – but I had run out of stitches!

Now, when I something comes up amiss, I do not automatically assume errata.  I painstakingly exhaust all other possibilities:  my own mis-counting, mis-reading, mis-understanding.  Lots of counting and arithmetic goes on.  But in this case, I simply did not see how I could make it work using the number of stitches I had been directed to cast on. 

So, I sifted through the pattern instructions looking for the smallest possible amendment that would set everything right.   (this is like the scene in the movie where the bomb-defusing hero has to decide whether to clip the red wire or the blue wire)  The instructions said to keep 3 sts at the beginning and end of each pattern row in stockinette.  What if I changed that to 2 sts?  Shazam!  Suddenly, all the numbers worked! (like the scene where the computer guy hacks into the main frame and all the gobbledy-gook on the screen melts into lists of CIA operatives)  Yes!

 

 

Not Arithmetic

Tempted as I am to regale everyone with details of the two hours I spent working out the numbers for the next portion of the Joyful Ferocity (that is, what followed once I had the 372 stitches on the needles), I will not. 

I will just say that I did indeed get it all worked out:  there are 3 sections of a 14 stitch +8 repeat pattern, 2 box pleat sections that had to be placed where they will be centered on the entire skirt section -- the piece I am working on is only a portion of the skirt section – and a rather rapid decrease on one end.

It was something of a triumph.

Other triumph-esque moments in the past week:

1. Holding up the Joyful Ferocity piece at our knitting class (in order to show the pick-up-and-knit technique) and hearing them all say “Ohhhhh..!” with one voice.  As if I were knitting fairy raiment!

2. Discovering how I can move from my email to the rest of the Internet without closing the email and using the “Mom’s Internet” shortcut on my desktop.  I can just click a button on the toolbar!

3. Well, one would think there would be more than 2 little triumphant moments in the week, but I cannot think of any others….Like if I had managed to finish the sleeves for the baby sweater -- one would think I could finish sleeves that are about 6 inches long, for heaven’s sake!